Part 2 — The Weight of Silence
The next Saturday, I made my way over to Thomas’s usual spot by the bar. He hadn’t seen me coming.
“Mr. Bell, were you ever near Kedron Brook during a flood?” I asked, setting the photo down gently in front of him.
His eyes flickered over it, then snapped away.
“Lots of blokes were,” he muttered, raising his beer, as if trying to shield himself.
“Your name’s on the back,” I pressed softly.
A forced laugh bubbled from him, like a cough he couldn’t suppress. “Common name,” he said as his fingers clenched around his glass, knuckles pale and tight. “Best not to rattle old bones, love,” his voice was low, but there was something in it—a warning, or maybe a plea.
The bartender stepped forward, hand on hip. “Anna, don’t interrogate the customers.”
“I’m not,” I protested.
Thomas stood abruptly, his cane tapping against the floor. He didn’t look back as he made his way toward the door, leaving the photo untouched. For the first time, the hum of voices didn’t feel like background noise. It felt heavy.
I had overheard whispers about Thomas’s life: Alone. Meals on Wheels. Two kids who never visited. I recalled the words I wiped down the table at the end of my shift. I walked along Ballantine Street toward 7th Brigade Park. The Chermside Dog Park was quiet, save for the occasional call of a bird and the soft hum of traffic. My thoughts were tangled with Thomas’s sudden retreat when my phone rang. Unknown number.
“Is this Anna from Kedron-Wavell?” the voice asked, clipped, professional. “Thomas Bell has collapsed. Paramedics are transporting him to Prince Charles.”
My blood turned cold. I’d agreed to be a volunteer emergency contact for the club months ago, but this was the first time it had mattered.
“I’m on my way,” I said, not knowing whether I was running toward something or away from it.
By the time I reached the wetlands, the ambulance doors had already closed. Through the tinted windows, I saw Thomas’s hand, clenched tight around a ribbon frayed and worn.
A medal that his fingers refused to let go.
To be continued…
In case you missed it, see Part 1 here.
